


i wanna wake up to you

by earlgrey_milktea



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, M/M, Snapshots, shameless handholding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 07:22:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10552362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgrey_milktea/pseuds/earlgrey_milktea
Summary: bokuto and akaashi and the moments where they make a home in each other.





	

**Author's Note:**

> a little late and a little short, but still something for bokuaka day!!
> 
> so at first i was like, "i love domesticity and i want to write something fluffy for these two" but i didn't know where exactly i wanted to go. in the end, the theme i was going for was something like "falling asleep/waking up to you + home" so i hope that came through.
> 
> anyway, these two boys supporting each other and enjoying each other's company and building a home out of each other and within each other, i'm sobbing on the floor

“Ah, it’s already this late,” Akaashi says, glancing out the dark window. He puts his pencil down, blinking across the table at Koutarou. “I should be getting home.”

Koutarou fumbles for his phone. “Uh, I think the last trains just left though...”

Akaashi frowns. “Oh.”

“You can just stay over! My parents won’t mind!” Koutarou fiddles with his little owl-shaped stress ball as Akaashi considers. It’s not the first time Akaashi stayed over, but Koutarou can’t help feeling nervous every time. He likes being able to spend more time with his friend, and he knows Akaashi feels the same, but there’s still a part of Koutarou that shakes and quivers in the pauses that make up Akaashi’s calm nature.

“Let me just let my parents know.”

“Okay! I’ll go get the futon set up!”

Koutarou bounds out of his room down to the hall closet. There’s an excited smile pulling at his lips and something swelling in his chest. They can watch some anime, or maybe more volleyball footage, or maybe play a game! Though they do have school tomorrow, so maybe Akaashi will try to make them go to sleep early. But that’s okay, because Koutarou knows that Akaashi likes talking to him, too.

When they’re both tucked into their blankets and staring at the ceiling, Koutarou goes, “Hey, hey, hey, Akaashi.”

“Yes, Bokuto-san?”

“What do you usually dream of?”

“I don’t know,” Akaashi replies. He doesn’t sound annoyed though. Just a little bit sleepy. “Why?”

Koutarou hums. “I’m curious. Dreams are magic, aren’t they? Tells the future? Reveals your inner thoughts and desires?”

“Dreams are just your brain trying to make sense of the information it absorbed during the day,” Akaashi tells him. He falls quiet again, but it’s a thoughtful kind of quiet, where he’s considering what to say next, and what he’s about to say is important and will probably change Koutarou’s life.

“I don’t really remember my dreams,” Akaashi says finally. “Usually just snippets. Sometimes I wake up hungry because I probably dreamed about food. Mostly, I think, it’s volleyball, because I was reviewing before I went to sleep.”

“That’s the same as me! I dream about volleyball and food all the time.”

“I’m sure you do,” Akaashi sighs, but Koutarou can tell his sighs apart by now, and this one says he is smiling.

“Sometimes I dream about you,” Koutarou blurts. He stiffens for a bit, then continues babbling in hopes that he hasn’t ruined this and made Akaashi wish he’d asked for a ride home instead. “I mean, I dream about all our teammates! Because I dream about volleyball. But sometimes we’re not doing volleyball things, sometimes we’re, uh, ice cream! Or going to the beach? For some reason? And Kuroo is there sometimes but his smirk gives me nightmares sometimes so I try not to dream about him, but sometimes I dream about you and me walking home together and it’s like any other day but it’s kind of nice, I don’t know, it’s just a dream—”

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi interrupts when Koutarou’s running out of air and his words are running into each other. Koutarou musters enough courage to peek over the edge of his bed. Akaashi’s eyes are blinking slowly, but there’s a small smile tilting his lips. “That sounds like a good dream.”

“It is,” Koutarou agrees. “Goodnight, Akaashi.”

“Goodnight, Bokuto-san. Sweet dreams.”

 

 

 

 

Koutarou always wakes up too early during training camp. He’s always been a morning person, but even this is too early. No one else is ever awake, so Koutarou rolls up his futon as quietly as he can, tiptoeing past Komi’s spread-eagled form and making sure not to step on Washio’s long legs. Maybe he can find a spare volleyball, or go for a jog.

The gym isn’t open yet, so he goes outside. Rays of sunlight are just peeking through the trees, and the morning chill kisses his skin absentmindedly. He stretches, eyes on the horizon, humming to himself.

“Bokuto-san?”

Koutarou turns to find Akaashi standing behind him, rubbing his eyes. He’s still in his sleep-clothes, his long legs pale against the rising sun, an oversized jersey over his shoulders.

“Akaashi! Did I wake you? Sorry!”

“It’s fine,” Akaashi says. He blinks at Koutarou. “Did you manage to sleep at all?”

Koutarou nods. “I’m just excited to start the day! Volleyball!” He looks closer. “Hey, is that my jacket?”

Akaashi follows his gaze to the jersey he’s wearing. “Oh. Maybe. I grabbed whatever was nearest. Did you want—”

“No! I mean, it’s okay! You get cold easily, right?”

Akaashi blinks at him again, but less sleepily and more thoughtfully. “Yes. Thank you.”

Koutarou beams back at him. “Want to take a walk with me?”

Koutarou hasn’t run out of things to say, but sometimes it’s nice to be quiet, too. He likes being quiet with Akaashi. The second year is looking a little more awake, his expression open and soft in a way that most people might mistake as bored or indifferent, but Koutarou knows better. 

The rest of the boys at the training camp are just beginning to wake by the time they make their way back inside. Koutarou walks close enough for their fingers to brush against each other, and Akaashi doesn’t move away. 

 

 

 

 

Halfway through his first semester in college, Koutarou finds himself sitting at the fast-food restaurant two blocks away from Akaashi’s place. He hasn’t slept in two days but it feels like weeks, his hair is a mess and hanging in his eyes, he doesn’t even want to play volleyball. And he  _ always  _ wants to play volleyball.

The door to the restaurant opens, and Akaashi is there, glancing around with a note of urgency creasing his brow. It takes him a second longer than usual to spot Koutarou, but he’s heading over as soon as he does.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says. “What are you doing here?”

“Akaashi,” Koutarou says back, and then his lips are wobbling and he has to shove his face into his arms to keep from losing it in a public space. It’s almost ten so the restaurant isn’t as full anymore, but Koutarou doesn’t want to embarrass Akaashi. Or worse, have one of the servers come over to kick him out.

The chair next to him squeaks a bit as Akaashi sits down. A steady hand presses against his back, in between his shoulder blades, and then slides downwards, then back up. Akaashi repeats the motion, and Koutarou tries to focus on the rhythmic sensation through his warbled sobbing. It takes a few minutes before he’s gathered enough of himself to look up again.

“I’m sorry for calling you out here,” he blubbers.

Akaashi hands him a napkin. “It’s okay. Do you want to come over? My parents won’t mind as long as you’re quiet.”

Koutarou’s already nodding before Akaashi’s finished speaking. He lets Akaashi take his hand and lead him out of the restaurant. The streets by the Akaashi apartment is quiet, the night air cold against Koutarou’s tear-stained face. Akaashi doesn’t let go of his hand, so he holds on.

 

 

 

 

His phone pings with a new text while he’s still shaking out the spare futon his mother made him pack. It’s Akaashi, saying he’s by the gates now, which building is your dorm, am I allowed to come in? 

Glad his roommate went home for the weekend, Koutarou lets out a happy hoot, and then he’s running out the door, barely remembering to snag his keys. He doesn’t want to be locked out when Akaashi’s finally found time in his busy schedule for a sleepover.

“Akaaaaghsheee,” Koutarou exclaims. He’s leaping across the three feet between them, barely giving Akaashi a heads up before he’s upon the other boy, arms wrapped around him. “I missed you!”

Akaashi lets out a small  _ oof!  _ as he adjusts his balance with Koutarou’s extra weight. His arms wrap around Koutarou’s back, and even through the layers of clothing they’re both wearing, it’s warm. “I missed you, too, Bokuto-san.”

“Come on, come on! I bought groceries yesterday, but I forgot to ask what you wanted for dinner, so I thought I would let you decide right now, and we could figure it out together.”

The familiar smile that is somehow simultaneously small and radiant and so entirely  _ Akaashi _ is resting on Akaashi’s lips and Koutarou is only half-aware of his own answering grin. “Sounds good,” Akaashi says.

The sun’s barely gone down, and students are still milling about as they cross the courtyard, but when Koutarou reaches over to take Akaashi’s hand, he doesn’t pull away.

 

 

 

 

At one-thirty-three in the morning, Koutarou stumbles out of his room blearily as the doorbell echoes through their tiny apartment. Kuroo is just shuffling out into the hallway, muttering under his breath about who it can possibly be this time of night. Reaching the door first, Koutarou opens it without a second thought, halfway through a yawn, which is immediately cut off when he sees who it is standing on the other side.

“A-Aka-Akaashi?”

Tired green eyes stare back at him. “Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, and his voice is quiet, but in a way that tugs at something in Koutarou’s gut and makes him want to hold the other close. “Is it alright if I stay over for the night?”

Koutarou is nodding, pulling the door wider to let Akaashi in before he remembers that he shares this apartment with someone else. He spins around to send Kuroo a stare, but his friend’s already one step ahead of him. 

“I’m going to make tea,” Kuroo announces, and then promptly disappears into the kitchen. The light clicks on, and then there are some more banging than necessary for someone who moves like an overly-lanky cat most of the time.

“Thanks,” Akaashi says, still quiet. And then, barely above a whisper, he says, “Sorry.”

Koutarou shakes his head. “You know you can come bother your senpai any time, Akaashi!” He leads the other boy over to the couch. Akaashi’s gaze has stuck to the floor since he stepped inside. For a moment, Koutarou flounders. He wants to help Akaashi, but he’s never been good at emotions. His own emotions have always been a rollercoaster of a mess, and it’s usually Akaashi who’s good at talking him down.

“It’s okay,” Akaashi says. “You don’t have to worry so much. I’ll be okay soon.”

Even now, Akaashi is looking out for him. Koutarou clenches his fingers, then releases them. “Do you... want to talk about it?”

Akaashi doesn’t reply right away. “No,” he says eventually. “Not now.” He looks up, finally, and when Koutarou meets his gaze, those green eyes are still tired. But less cold. Less lost.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Koutarou decides. He holds out a hand, and Akaashi doesn’t hesitate. His fingers are cold, but by the time he’s tucked into Koutarou’s bed, Koutarou thinks that some of his own warmth has made their way into the other boy’s hand.

 

 

 

 

Koutarou’s usually the first to wake. That hasn’t changed. But a lot of things have.

He wakes to warmth, almost too much, but the kind of warmth where the temptation to sink in deeper is more than the need to pull away. Keiji’s hair tickles his chin, and there’s even more warmth fanning across his collarbone as Keiji breathes, still slow in sleep. Their limbs are tangled together, the blanket half on the floor, but Koutarou can’t help the smile spreading across his face.

It’s been eight months since they’ve moved in together, and everyday still feels like the first. Koutarou can get used to this.

“Nnngh, stop moving,” Keiji groans. He inches closer, head bumping against Koutarou’s nose. “Sleep.”

“You’re going to be late,” Koutarou says.

“Sleeeeeep.”

Koutarou laughs, which causes Keiji to pull away and give him a disgruntled look. Still laughing, Koutarou reaches over and nudges Keiji’s head closer, close enough for him to press his lips against the other boy’s forehead, cheeks, nose.

Keiji scrunches his face. “Kou?”

“Mm?”

Green eyes study him for a bit, and then slip shut. “Nothing. Good morning.”

Koutarou smiles. He leans forwards and, before Keiji can protest about morning breath, sneaks in a peck on the lips. “Good morning, Keiji.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> that last scene was ridiculously sappy but i won't apologize because it's hell week for me right now i barely survived two group papers, as if writing a paper by myself isn't hard enough why the frick are all my final assignments gROUP PROJECTS I WAS NOT MADE FOR THIS MUCH SOCIALIZATION
> 
> come cry with me about these gosh darn volleyowls @puddingcatbae on tumblr/twitter!


End file.
